"Then your will shall be done, Gabby LeMort and Rowan Black." Handling the red teddy with care, Ione cast a softer look at the dark couple. She offered a sweet smile, then mana flared from her outstretched palms, light at her left, dark at her right. She brought the two opposing magics together and shot a spinning half-and-half sphere into the skies straight above.
Yet another blaring trumpet, far louder this time, rattled Rowan’s skull, his ears screaming in pain at a million decibels. Drops of hot wetness trickled from his lobes onto his neck. The trumpet was unending and intensified in loudness.
You have taken 1 sound damage.
You have taken 1 sound damage.
You have taken 1 sound damage.
The trumpet blasted on. Rowan tanked the uncomfortable damage like a real World Boss and sipped from one of Ambiguous’ health potions as she handed them out. I guess this is why she carries them. Though Gabrielle refused and healed her own ears with waves of her glowing wand. She smartly did not waste one of her Healing Totems.
The trumpet died down. Ione spoke, but her voice intoned from all directions: "Wake, my walkers of the mundane path. Wake, my oldest creation. My… humans. I, Ione, the true goddess of creation, of knowledge of good and evil, have come to deliver your final hour. Do not despair, for it is the work of nature incarnate. Before creation, there is destruction. Before order, there is chaos. And before new life, there is death."
The truth of Ione’s words resonated deep within Rowan, buzzed in his dark-ice mana.
"But for those of darkness, this is your hour of salvation. Embrace your suffering and give your life for Rowan and Gabby’s cause. Summon your inner darkness, focus the magic on your right palm, and mark your forehead… and your loved ones’ foreheads. You shall be saved, reborn anew in the image of their vision. Power and greatness is your destiny." Ione inhaled a long breath.
Not a heartbeat later, next to Ione, a young starving man garbed with rags appeared in a twist of darkness. Oily dark mana dripped from his palm and forehead. Then another two—a woman and her young daughter, both marked by the mother. And more appeared: men, women, children, not just from the slums. Nobles as well. All humans of darkness that had to hide their true selves in front of the masses of light. All Rowan’s people.
And with the people materialized silver knives above their heads, a sacrificial blade for each. None ran from their fates, but some were understandably afraid, or angry, and many were simply uncaring. Most stared at Ione, or at Rowan and Gabrielle, with rightful suspicion, but the presence of the Dark Humans quelled any possible queries or conflict.
As the Divine Intervention site filled, a small boy of seven or eight years approached Rowan with a fist. His father held him back. "He’s evil, Daddy! The guards told me he killed everyone in Stonehurst!"
Well, these were mostly Rowan’s people. He had to allow the least-dark of the lot to bring their families to win over their loyalty. They’d all be converted anyway. These were merely the most-suitable candidates.
Eventually, close to a thousand marked humans stood before the goddess. The rate of new arrivals dwindled, and Rowan didn’t know what to think of the number. A thousand wasn’t nearly enough to repopulate a large chunk of a continent, but perhaps a thousand was all he needed after a few generations of breeding. The game’s magic vastly sped up that part of life for obvious reasons.
Or perhaps, if they didn’t wish to bear and raise children, a thousand was a perfect number: quality over quantity. They could all be granted Divine Blessings from a single Oculus. None would miss out. Some population controls would need to be in place, especially if the girls were as sex-crazed as the guys. But how?
Rowan discretely shook his head and stowed those musings for later as Ione spoke in the dark language, "Divine Exchange." Her eyes blazed with magic. Her silhouette blossomed with strands of dark-light mana.
The knives simultaneously impaled claimed their targets. Pained screams rang in the park, blood everywhere, and in the distance, half a mile downhill, among a gathering crowd, a gaseous, opaque poison cloud billowed to mountainous proportions, a mossy-colored mushroom rising into the night sky. Followed by another further away. North, south, east, west, poison gas smothered the slums and extinguished all life.
Rowan’s experience bar trickled rightward, a few percentage points gained. The Dark Humans, however, rocked upward in levels. Viola and Skylar both dinged level 146.
"It is done." Ione let Zaine’s soul anchor glide forth from her grasp. She faded from view, not staying for the rest.
The red teddy shook and thrummed with airy dark mana. The patchwork fabric blackened till it dripped liquid darkness, melting. It pooled onto the grass, refused to mix with the blood, and gathered and congealed into a blob as though alive. It rose three feet, further condensed, pulsating with a familiar rhythm, a beating heart in sync with Rowan’s frantic pulse. He exhaled as his trusty amulet, the jewel of blasphemies, vibrated in the outpour of sheer dark power.
Gabrielle giggled madly. "It. Is. Happening. My Zaine is back!"
Her Zaine?
Rowan grabbed her from behind, embraced her chest and tummy. He growled at her ear, "Don’t forget who you belong to, my beautiful fucktoy."
"Hehehehe. Of course, and Zaine’s just a kid. Get your brain out of the gutter!"
He patted her tush four times, fondling her lovely breasts. "Good."
The congealed mass began to take a humanoid shape as it lightened to shades of gray, the darkness smoking off. Arms and legs stretched outward along with a head. A young Dark Human’s kneeling body, male, rapidly took form. The black smoke condensed into a gown-like robe.
A familiar dialogue window decorated with rubies faded into view.
World Event Update, The Dark Ruby Core!
A demonic power thought to be long defeated walks once more among the living.
Triggering adventurers: Rowan Black, Gabby LeMort.
Location: Oakwood Park, Greenwood Slums.
Zaine Everlight was back. Demon Knight. World Boss. Tier eight.
Chapter 43
Friends
The reborn demigod stood and examined his new body, pleased. “Gabby, my blade.”
Apart from Zaine’s soft voice, this bloody, corpsy section of Oakwood Park was deathly silent, poison clouds encroaching from the surrounding slum. Rowan counted: ten fingers, ten toes, and two crimson-yellow eyes that dimly shone in the night. The kid had been reborn as a Dark Human—a couple of years older, maybe thirteen or fourteen to match his angsty personality, strangely enough. Was this Ione’s special surprise? What a scam. It was not worth sacrificing the skill itself. Damned dark deities. Tricksters.
While Zaine made sure his body didn’t lack anything important, Rowan noticed fire and smoke brimming though the peeks of Greenwood spine. The great beast was slowly making its way over. That titanic body couldn’t possibly be very nimble.
Zaine, finally satisfied, flexed his fingers and held out a palm toward Gabrielle. “Well?”
“Huh? Me?”
“My katana. I sense it in your pouch.”
She slowly blinked a few times, eyes unfocusing. “Oh, you’re right. I did hold onto it for ya! Thought I gave it to Ambiguous.”
That was news to Rowan. “I thought he didn’t drop loot.” And he remembered to toss a party invitation as she pulled out the ornate sword. Immediately, Zaine’s party entry appeared at the left adorned with a Draesear-like skull icon. Very fitting.
Gabrielle waved the sword back and forth as though it were a toy. “Oh, I meant loot gems. He dropped this though. Here ya go! Passed ownership.”
Blackish fire consumed the sword; it reappeared in Zaine’s grasp. “Indeed.” His robes blazed with fiery wind. His stats shot up significantly from the single piece of gear, and with smooth motions one after another, he activated his various wards and self-buffs. The outpour of heat was welcome in the cold night, though it fanned away much of the icy Undead’s mist. Fire and ice had s
uch poor synergy at times.
Finally, Zaine’s armor of buffering flames flared up and down his body for a second. He sheathed the sword at his hip, his eyes sweeping the group—and the thousand marked corpses. He exhaled. “My… friends. Gabby, Rowan, Ambiguous, and your newfound allies. You have brought me back—after a few short days. I’m impressed. But what of my sister, Sazar? Have you forgotten our binding contract?”
“We haven’t,” Rowan said. “We only had enough sacrifices for you and some minor requests.” True enough.
“Divine Intervention?”
“Final.”
Zaine’s eyes thinned slightly. “I see. My Detection Ward reveals nothing but death for miles in every—” He abruptly reeled, turning on the balls of his feet and blinking down the park with a fiery swirl. Rowan was ready for another onslaught, but Zaine blinked back and waved him off. “He’s gone. Just a scouting Rogue.” Right, his Detection Ward was tier ten. Perk of being a demigod.
Rowan took a breath, then began in an authoritative voice, “Alright, let’s hurry up. There’s a Red Dragon boss coming from over there, tier seven. Zaine, summon your imps; the portals are ready over there by the boulders. Edward, give him his new gear you crafted. Gabby, give him a vial of anti-poison—and mana flasks; give me some as well. Ambiguous, prepare to ship these bodies and the Dark Humans back to Gabby’s town. We’re sieging the city while their World Bosses are still down.”
Ambiguous said, “Cooldown. Twenty-six minutes. I didn’t combo the last use with Double Cast, sorry.”
“Damn.” No point in hounding her over a mistake.
The others got to work with little chatter, Zaine briefly exchanging unneeded introductions and a few breaths of small talk. He said, “Our glowing eyes are bit of a giveaway at night, don’t you think?”
“You can dim that by focusing your magic away from them,” Amelia said.
“Yeah. Like this.” Viola.
“I like my shining red eyes.” Lucas.
Skylar smirked deviously. “A certain Death Knight said she likes them when we were sharing a tent.”
“Watch your tongue.” Ayla glared knives.
Though the chatter was cordial, the Dark Humans were far tenser than usual. Evident caution quivered in their eyes. No matter; they’d get used to the demigod’s presence in due time.
“Hurry up, dummies! The big meanie dragon is coming!” Gabrielle cut their dawdling short, and soon enough, Clawed Imps and Imp Mages came flying through the flaming portal frames single-file, Zaine feeding the stone frames demonic magic. He lost the black gown and equipped mythical-rarity armor—identical to Ayla’s.
Gabrielle nudged his arm. “Here ya go,” she sang. “Shoulda told me you were out of Mana Draughts.”
“Thanks.” He accepted the stack, carefully placed them into their new home—his pouch—and pecked her soft lips, earning a subtle blush from her.
Her tongue clicked. “Really? Another kiss? Just hurry up with these corpses.” She about-turned and pranced toward the tree line at the other side.
Rowan smirked and carefully stepped through blood-soaked grass toward the dark thousand, a Mass Raise on his mind. The Dark Humans watched him with anticipation at the edge of his sight. The verses wafted from his lips, this skill a tedious chore to perform. The rush of dark-ice mana in his blood compensated somewhat. If only Rowan had Quick Cast, but he wouldn’t waste its hour-long cooldown on something like this anyway.
As the spell completed and took hold of each corpse, Rowan noticed liquid dripping down his robes, from under his robes. The slickness came from his chest. His amulet. His heart thudded as he yanked on its chain. Blackish-white mist spewed from the onyx, but the jewel wasn’t as before. Oily darkness dripped from a corner.
And the crack was gone. The whispers were gone.
[Soulbound] Jewel of Blasphemies
A silver onyx amulet of divine and mundane wonders crafted from a plain Necromancer’s Keystone by the Goddess of Creation.
Rarity: Unique
Durability: Indestructible
Reduces the ambient temperature around the wearer
Opens a door to a Necromancer’s altar in any Dark Temple
+2 Magical Power
Grants the skill Ione’s Dark Conversion (Cooldown resettable at a Dark Oculus)
Dripping liquid darkness?
Unlimited charges! However, the cooldown was three days.
A quest update dinged into view.
Quest Update: Whispers From the Aether
Your Cracked Necromancer’s Keystone, now revealed to the be Jewel of Blasphemies, has been fixed! The whispers are no more, but there are still more mysteries.
Rewards: Access to a Dark Oculus, ?
Gabrielle appeared next to him in a puff of smoke, Rowan nearly flinching. “Ooooo. She fixed it!”
“You added it to your list of requests?”
“Yup. Last second.”
Of course, she had thought of it. “Good thinking. Do you know what this liquid darkness is?" The oil slithered down a five-degree slope into the pond, polluting it. A lily pad shriveled and broke apart. What a useless perk. Intuition sparking, Rowan deactivated the drip with a mental command.
Gabrielle blinked twice. "Beats me." She whistled a tune. "But ya might as well convert them—"
A few miles eastward into the slum, gold light shone into the night and cleared a lot of poison over there.
"Group portal," Zaine calmly said while focusing on his own demonic portals. His impish army was already tallying into the thousands; these open fields were a perfect space for a mass assembly. Ebony bodies and flapping wings lined up into neat squares of nine-hundred.
"Seriously?" Ayla said. "That’s stupid. Why fight here?"
Murmurs and hums, Ambiguous and Gabrielle shared their agreement along with the Dark Humans.
Rowan fought a confused scowl pinching his brow, thinking it through instead of jumping to conclusions. Why port into the slums when everyone was already dead? When there was poison everywhere that needed to be cleansed. There wasn’t any point in fighting this far out from the city walls, from those towers and mounted ballistae. Either this was a massive strategic misstep… or there was something valuable here.
He grabbed Gabrielle’s shoulder. "There’s something hidden here—"
Suddenly, the moons brightened ten-fold and took on a bluish-green tint. Soothing mana seeped into Rowan, calming his pulse and washing his exposed skin with a warm, silky sensation as though he were floating on a bath of coconut milk. And a watered-down fruity aroma did fill the air, almost as delectable as Gabrielle’s pineapple scent. "What’s happening?" he breathed.
Ayla answered, "Dusk Elf Queen’s ultimate. It’s a mass cleanse and heal only usable at night when the moon’s out. Look. All the poison is dispersing."
Gabrielle was about to say something when the grass shifted a few hundred meters down the park. Wisps of green mana spiraled into the air, and thick roots broke through the soil, growing so rapidly that Rowan, out of reflex, pointed with his wand and blasted the magical plant. Tainted ice exploded against the undulating mass, coating it for a split-second before shattering.
You have dealt 0 damage to your target.
Invulnerable. Crap.
"Uh oh." Gabrielle drew her wand. "It’s her short-distance two-way portal thingy." Her description was very apt, Rowan understanding without trouble.
The roots weaved into a arch, twenty feet high and forty long. Liquid-like rippling green mana filled the arch, translucent. Their faces were hideously enraged.
Rowan pulled away the thousand zombies and pinged the Dark Humans to stay with them, control given. He tugged Redwing and Seth’s leashes letting them know they were once again in charge of micromanagement.
The armies of light, the righteous many, sprinted through, countless high-tier Light Screens active. Thunderous bellows boomed from the arch, instantly muffled by the smart noise cancellation.
And Dorian,
that piggy-bro bastard, flew overhead on his phoenix posed as though he were their glorious leader. Pompous was the only word to describe his face. He was only overshadowed by their actual World Boss directly beneath.
Behind their frontline Paladins and Warriors, a pointy-eared, bluish-skinned woman in a semi-revealing silver dress rode a large white panther. Welding an ivory branch, she was undoubtedly attractive, far more than SoSo’s character. Rowan couldn’t help but imagine Gabrielle as a Dusk Elf garbed in a similarly ornate, sexy dress.
Zaine’s Imp Mages, already in the thousands, spread into a healthy arc and spewed fire. Magic and arrows arched into the air from both sides. Ultimates were going off left and right, not too strong. Though worst of all, tidal waves and fiery plasma beams came together from their backlines—not too smart. The opposing magics weakened each other significantly. Ice Harpies charged forth and tanked the mixture, few losses taken.
Devil's Waltz Page 43